Gotta Love the Olympics

I've been enjoying watching the Olympics with my girls. Both Cora and Sydney have announced that when they grown up they want to get a gold medal at the Olympics. They say it with the same matter-of-factness that they use when they tell me other things that they want to do when they grow up: drive a convertible, wear high heels, have 10 kids, get a cell phone, wear make up, be a teacher, and live next door to mom and dad.

They are having a hard time narrowing down their sport. It is quite a conundrum. They like the downhill skiing because it "looks like you are flying." But seeing the nasty spills some of those women took last night kind of soured them on that idea.

The liked the fast track skaters and they feel a connection to Apollo Ohno because he's from Federal Way and he's also a ballroom dancer, but they haven't settled on fast track because they are keeping their options open.

As you can imagine, they love the figure skating, and we've mostly been watching the couples. Sydney even went so far as to request skating lessons. But couples figure skating does present the problem of needing a partner, and they just can't think of any neighborhood boys that could toss them around while also staying upright on figure skates.

Sigh. It is such a dilemma choosing which sport to get your gold medal in.

If I were 7 again I think I would want to be Shaun White. Who am I kidding? I'm thiry-something and I want to be Shaun White.

Last night was the first night I have ever seen him in action, although I've seen him in various commercials and remembered his hair. I don't know much about him but I get the feeling from his overall bad boy demeanor that he's probably been a bit naughty. I honestly don't know if this is true or not; I'm just guessing. You can all fill me in later. But naughty or nice, I find myself wanting to be him.

First of all, watching him gear up for his run he seemed unlike any of the other athletes. There was no stress on his face or in his body. Nor was there the forced stillness of the athletes who are trying a little too hard to show how calm they are. Most of the athletes have this kind of fierce and hungry look in their eyes and you can see that they are clutching desperately to their dream, choking it almost. I watched several athletes turn this desperation into a medal and it was awesome--I was desperate with them. It was good TV.

But Shaun White was different. He was going to have his run and if the Olympics and their gold medals wanted to float after him like little golden butterflies then perhaps he would hold still long enough for them to land on his shoulder. If not, then it was their loss. He seemed like a college student on a ski vacation.

And yet, in seeming contrast to his casualness, but also born out of it, was this wonderful explosiveness. He was up in the air and turning and then sliding and bursting up again, and even though I know nothing about this sport, I desperately wanted whatever it was he was selling. I wanted to feel what he was feeling, down to the wind in my long wavy red hair . . .

Alas, this dream alludes me for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that I have never even touched a snowboard, and I don't have wavy red hair.

But I'll let you know when Cora and Sydney settle on their sports. We're not even sure if they are Winter or Summer Olympics girls yet. So many options, you know. Maybe they will be halfpipe girls and someday it will be the Olympic wind blowing through their long hair . . .

In any case, I just hope they keep dreaming.